


Morality and Mortality

by HackedTig



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Day 1 - Mortality/Immortality, F/F, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Moicy Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackedTig/pseuds/HackedTig
Summary: If you had the chance to be saved from death as soon as you received the hit, would you take it? Moicy Week 2018 Day 1 - Mortality/Immortality





	Morality and Mortality

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Moicy Week 2018. Here is my first fic in the week, regarding Angela and her thoughts on her own 'Project Resurrection", a device located in the back of her chest designed to work as a single-handed revival device. I hope you all enjoy and that this hits the nail on the head :)

Insomnia was a bitch of a thing to deal with. Angela Ziegler had dealt with it since she was seven years old, sleepless nights developed after her fear of death following her into her dreams. In her early twenties, it plagued her with fear of a patient dying or a soldier coming in too critically wounded. Tonight, Angela lay awake, dull pain coursing through her spine and her chest, the weight of the decision she had made and the actions just taken pushing heavily on her mind and body. 

In the back of her chest, webbing out and embedding itself was a device only known to two people in the entire world. Paper records were kept locked in a safe, a notepad was kept by her bedside to document the changes to her body. Project Resurrection was, digitally speaking, non-existent. But that burning sensation in the back of her chest, spreading like a wildfire down her nervous system, reminded her that it was very much a reality. 

She turned to face the clock. _03:38_. Far too late to stay up. Too early to even begin to attempt to move. Her nanites were slow after being drowned with anesthesia to work their usual magic, so she was, in fact, still healing from her incisions and having her organs shifted to fit the device. Turning her head, she slightly jostled the woman sleeping beside her, making a slight hum noise as she did. “Moira. _Moira_. Please, wake up.” 

Small growls left the bundle of blankets beside her, turning into low threatening words. “Ziegler. There isn’t even sunlight through the window.” Moira’s low voice growled through tired lips, a dangerous sound if Angela was anyone else. Continuing to shake her, Moira eventually sat up, turning with quite a vicious look about her angled features. If it wasn’t for the quick pace of her movements, Angela wouldn’t even be able to guess the expression. “ _What_.” Moira snapped coldly. 

Angela sunk in her pillows. “Moira I… I wanted to talk about… the project.” She said, almost a whisper. “Just… everything about this, I…” 

Moira sighed, shaking her head as she settled back down, rubbing her face in the dim light. “Angela, we’ve been over this.” She started. “You know my opinion, you know that i feel this is excellent for scientific advancement but pointless without a true test on a minor subject.” 

“No, not like that.” Angela shook her head. “Its. What if this truly does work. What does this mean for me? Will I never die? Remain… inhuman? Unnatural?” 

“Inhuman, perhaps.” She responded, turning on her side. Angela could feel Moira’s eyes on her, scanning her every feature, even in the dark. “But, not unnatural. Scientific advancement _is_ human nature. We research and create to advance. Not all of it is good progress, clearly, but this is an excellent feature. If you really have managed to create a device that will cause immortality, you would transcend the foolishness of mankind, be able to observe their behavior, learn from it. What a gift that would be.” Moira trailed, getting lost in her thought. Her gaze was set on nothing, staring through Angela at that point. 

Angela shut her eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I know. It’s a wonderful scientific discovery but. Is it the right one? To defy human nature like this?” 

For a reason unbeknownst to Angela, Moira had started to laugh. “You’ve made life-saving nanotechnology that sews up wounds thousands of times faster than natural healing processes of a body, injected them into your blood, created a suit that can fly, and now you wonder if your work is defying human nature? What are your boundaries, Angela Ziegler?” her tone told Angela she was smiling now, mostly in bitter irony. The smile broad and smug, brows low in accusation. 

She rolled her eyes, glancing to the side then. “Moira, this isn’t a joke. I… I’m no miracle worker. I can’t save everyone. I don't even know if this will work when the time comes. And when it does… is it right for me to keep this power? There’s so many questions and concerns, I’m genuinely worried if this will give me the wrong mindset.” She explained, bringing her hand up and raking it through her hair, broadly combing her bangs. Moira was oddly silent for a few minutes, she hoped she was genuinely thinking about the words spoken, seeing the concerns Angela had, how it all blended. Angela’s heart was beating heavy in her chest once she started speaking again. 

“If you’re worried about playing God, I believe you passed that point when you injected your own fatal wound with nanites back on your first emergent mission as a field medic.” Moira started. “We, as scientists and doctors alike, exist to improve and expand human society and knowledge, to answer unanswered questions and generate several hypotheses to be proven. If the device, Project Resurrection, does indeed work, perhaps it could be the answer to all of these wars. If soldiers realize they cannot kill their enemy, then perhaps they may lose interest. It could be the peaceful ending you so dearly desire.” She explained. Slowly, her hands snuck down to Angela’s own, she could feel them below the blankets. One thin, cold hand grabbed her slightly warmer one, giving it a tender squeeze. “And if it does not, at least there will be less death in the world, only busier hospital staff. I would think as a medical doctor, you might be pleased by that fact.” 

“What of immortality” She blurted out, just after Moira had finished. 

Moira’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean, ‘immortality’?” she inquired, leaning closer. 

Angela sighed deep, squeezing that hand that oh so dearly clung to her own. “What… what if I cannot die at all? The nanites fight every disease, they adapt and grow. My cells no longer deteriorate as I age. I should have white hairs from the stress of everyone depending on me, yet my hair is as blonde as the day I lost my parents, I…” She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears leaking out of her eyes. “What if the end of the world comes. What if I am alone forever, without my friends, without you.” Her accent became thicker as she started to cry. The mere thought of traversing the world, maybe not alone, but without her familiarity, to old to be with the new wave of people, too youthful in appearance to die. “I might not be able to remove this without dying once it fully integrates into my body, Moira… I… I could live far past you or anyone else in my life. I’m not prepared to be alone like that again, I, I can’t.” She hiccuped. 

Moira let go for the moment, allowing Angela to curl up as best as she could. It stressed her back, the device’s web straining its development as she pulled her hands to cover her. She shamelessly began to shake, to shutter and even cry at the current prospect. To outlive everyone she knew, that was the worst kind of fate to have. Tears leaked and slipped, but she did not squeak or sob one bit, only held stiff stutters in the back of her throat as she let them flow. Tissue soon came in contact with her face, dabbing the tears that had already fallen. Opening her eyes, Angela realized that Moira had turned on the lamp, blinding both of them for a moment, but not stopping Moira as she cleaned up the tears that Angela had shed. This only caused her to want to cry more, but she refrained. 

“I won’t be going anywhere, Aingeal…” Moira quietly soothed, wiping the tears as they came. “I will be by your side until the end of our days. I know your science knows no bounds, but you will not live forever. Everyone’s life must come to an end some day. Yours will too.” She said softly, her strange, morbid form of reassurance. 

Angela decided, at that moment, that was enough for her. She reached up, squeezing Moira’s wrist and hiccuping, but not much else for a long moment. She gave tender squeezes as her tears were wiped away, nuzzling into each dab Moira gave to her face, gentle and soft, much in contrast to her features and personality. For a moment, Angela considered the contrast and change between the woman lying beside her and herself as the soft tissue filled with her warm tears. “Moira…” 

Immediately, she was hushed. “If you dare ask me if this is ‘the right thing to do’, I need you to consider this.” Moira interrupted, tossing the tissue and now cupping Angela’s face with her hand, brushing aside tears with her thumb. “When has anything ever been a clear correct or incorrect choice? Is it right to be a doctor? A scientist? To help a militant organization who could kill thousands if it meant you got to save a few? To go behind command and experiment without reporting to them? You’ve done so much, it is so hard to believe that now you find a reason to doubt if your actions are true. Don’t question your progress and advances. Trust your conscious. If you feel you’re doing right, then you’re doing your best for you. Is that not something you doctors try and speak for everyone? Be the best you?” 

That reasonably got Angela to chuckle. “I believe you’re confusing my profession with Psychologists, Liebe…” 

“Mental illness, physical illness, if you aren’t in my lab you’re all the same to me.” Moira quipped. Her tone was deadpan and low, as it was hard to change it, but Angela could see the joke laced within. She merely felt her lips tug up a little, yet, she sighed. 

She turned over finally, ignoring the burning pain in her chest. “I see what you’re saying, I do,” Angela said softly. “... is this really the right thing for me to do if it makes me thrilled to see my progress?” 

Moira turned as well, settling next to Angela and looking in her eyes, a deep, brooding stare. One arm wrapped around her shoulders, gently dragging her close. “If it functions right, I say you could expand that to those who need it most. Or, think of it, children with terminal illness. There are many uses for that contraption. Good uses. Keep those in mind should you ever find yourself discovering the effects of that device.” 

Angela nodded in place, finally shutting her eyes. She didn’t feel that much better about her project, but of her decision, she was coming to terms of accepting it. “... Please don’t abandon this project, Moira. Don’t… abandon me. Please” 

Her back received gentle scratches from trimmed nails. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Angela. You know that.” 

She nodded, leaving the conversation at that. Her crying had died completely as Moira turned off the lamp. “Th… thank you, Moira. Good night, again.” 

“Don’t worry about it Aingeal,” Moira responded softly, pulling her close. Despite the discomfort it caused, Angela nuzzled into Moira’s chest, taking a deep whiff of the natural scent Moira exuded during the night time, the smell stuck to her thermal long sleeve. For once that night, Angela felt right. “Good night, Angela.” 

She hummed, nuzzling further into Moira’s chest. The soft, slow beat of her heart taking the position of a lullaby with a hand brushing her hair in sync, slowly taking Angela to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have much to say on this piece other than I'm glad this week is finally here and I'm so excited to start up writing for it! I can finally put some of my anticipated headcanons to vision. It's wonderful, really. I'd love to hear what you think if you enjoyed the fic, comments and suggestions are welcome as always. Thank you for reading!


End file.
